


Don't

by ArrayofColours



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Ron and Hermione - Freeform, rhr, romione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29864853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArrayofColours/pseuds/ArrayofColours
Summary: AU. "Don't... Don't marry her, Ron." What if Ron and Hermione never got together at the end of the war? What if they'd always loved each other but never worked up the courage to act on it? Well, now Ron is getting married and it's Hermione's last chance. AU. RHr. Romione.Cross posted to FF.net
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	Don't

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note:  
> This is an idea that came to me out of the blue and I decided to write it! Ron and Hermione are best friends (along with Harry as well) but in this AU fic, they never got together at the end of the war and secretly pined over each other ever since. Neither of them worked up the courage to change that. Until now.
> 
> Let me know what you think and please leave a review! This will be a one-shot only.
> 
> New chapter of In Between coming soon! I was working on this story all week instead 😊
> 
> Please, please, please review! I thrive on them!  
> Thanks!

**Don’t**

When you spent the majority of your life being someone’s best friend, you got to know certain things about them. Like Hermione knew that Ron’s favourite sweet was chocolate frogs. She knew that he needed complete silence when he was contemplating his next move in a chess match. She knew that he wasn’t a fan of anything mint. She knew he rubbed the back of his neck when he was embarrassed or sheepish. She knew his face would turn as red as his hair when someone paid him a compliment. She also knew she had been in love with him since they were twelve.

Ron had known Hermione since they were kids and that meant he knew her pretty well, he thought. Ron knew that Hermione took her tea with milk but no sugar. He knew that she chewed on the end of her quill when she was reading or studying really hard. He knew that her shampoo smelled of peaches. He knew that she pressed her lips together when she was trying not to laugh. He knew that she would do anything to help her friends succeed. He also knew that he had been in love with her since he was about fourteen when the Yule Ball woke him up in a way he never had been before.

Both of the two friends were in love with each other for years and neither had the courage to do anything about it. Sure, there had been moments when they had come close to it happening, to finally admitting their feelings to each other but there had always been something stopping them. Something in the way.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

_Flashback, Hermione age 13_

At first she didn’t know what that word Malfoy had called her meant. She was muggleborn after all, and that meant she hadn’t been a part of this world her whole life and didn’t know the vernacular as well as the kids who grew up in magical families. She only knew the world her called her was a bad one and she knew that from the reactions of those around her.

When Ron had sprung into action and defended her, ending up spitting up slugs for hours because of his faulty wand, things had changed for her. Suddenly she was looking at this boy, this cute redheaded boy that she had been friends with for over a year and seeing him in a whole new light.

That night, the night he’d taken the bounce back of the curse he’d tried to cast on Malfoy, she’d dreamt of him for the first time. It wasn’t a friendly dream either. She’d woken up blushing and she didn’t even know it was possible to blush in her sleep. She decided to head to breakfast early, hoping it would take her mind off things. When she entered the common room, however, the object of those very thoughts and dreams was sitting on the common room couch.

“Ron!” She said, surprised to see him.

“Hey Hermione.” He responded with a yawn.

“What are you doing up so early? Usually you’re one of the last ones up.” She moved to where he was sitting but didn’t get too close, still flushed and embarrassed about her dream.

“I couldn’t sleep too well.” He shrugged. “Slugs aftermath.”

Hermione felt her heat clench. He hadn’t slept because of something that had happened defending her.

“Are you feeling better now? Did the slugs finally stop?” She sat on the end of the sofa facing him and tucked her legs under her.

“Yeah, took a while though. Reckon it’s all out of my system now.”

She nodded but bit her lip for a second, feeling shy. “You know you didn’t have to do that, Ron. Malfoy’s an idiot.”

“What? Of course I did!” He answered heatedly. “You’re my friend and he’s not allowed to speak to you that way! Ruddy git. I’d do anything to defend you, Hermione.” After the last part came out of his mouth, Hermione saw him blush and look at his hands. She felt her face heat up and her heart swell. Oh boy.

“Well, thank you.” She said softly, smiling at him. He looked up from his hands and gave her the crooked smile that would come to be one of her favourite things to see over the years.

“Anytime.” He said softly.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

_Flashback, Ron, age 14_

_Why did she have to go to the ball with Viktor bloody Krum of all people?_ Ron was still seething, even after the night was over. He scowled, picturing her dancing with that git, smiling, laughing and doing it all with someone that wasn’t him. The thought struck him hard when it crossed his mind. Why was it suddenly so important who she’d gone to the ball with?

_Because you wanted her to go with you, you thick git._

And it was true, he realized. Though he hadn’t shown it well and the way he’d asked her was technically an insult at the same time (he cringed when he thought about his “You’re a girl” comment), he had really wanted to go with Hermione though, he supposed, he hadn’t known why at the time. Not until she’d walked into the Great Hall on the arm of an international Quidditch Star. Not until he’d seen how insanely _beautiful_ she looked.

_What the bloody hell am I supposed to do now?_

Well, he sure as hell couldn’t say anything to her. And he’d have to continue to act normal like nothing had changed because there was no way he was going to make it known. Maybe if he didn’t think about it, this thing he was feeling, he still didn’t know really what it was, would go away and things would go back to normal.

Right?

But they didn’t go back to normal did they. Nor did the _thing_ he was feeling fade away.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

They danced around each other for years. Hermione asked him to a Christmas party in 6th year and Ron thought it was only as friends and started dating Lavender Brown. Ron asked her to dance at Bill’s wedding and he thought something would come of it but then they were whisked off on their horcrux hunt. The battle was over and they never got a moment alone. And now, here they were, years later and still best friends (closer than they ever had been before, mind you), but still only friends.

And now, Ron was getting married. Yes, married.

Hermione still hadn’t accepted the fact. And the fact that he was marrying Lavender Brown? That was even harder for her to accept.

Ron and Lavender had run into each other at the Ministry a few years before and reconnected. Both had matured, both had grown up and changed and they found they connected again and this time on a deeper level than just snogging all day and night. He dated her for a year before proposing. Well, technically he wasn’t the one who proposed. She had. She claimed it was because she was a modern woman but Hermione suspected Lavender was getting sick of waiting for Ron to pop the question and decided to do it herself and lock things down. Either way, he was marrying her and not Hermione.

She went into a depression for weeks after it was announced, crying on Harry’s shoulder for he was the only one who knew her true feelings for their other best friend. She hadn’t even told him herself. He’d figured it out from being around them for all those years. Apparently everyone could see it but Ron.

In any case, he was getting married, he was happy and she was trying her best to accept it at least. She’d always have Ron as a friend, and at least she’d have him in that way. Though she knew Lavender still wasn’t a fan of how close her and Ron were. She’d made that much extremely clear.

She didn’t know if she could do it. Watch him marry someone else. She contemplated saying something for weeks, months after they announced the engagement. She wanted to but she just couldn’t get the words out. She’d tried multiple times and had come really close but just never had.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

_Flashback, 2 weeks after Ron’s engagement announcement_

“Please tell me you brought some of those brownies you make that I bloody love!” Ron said as he whipped open the door to his flat, knowing who was on the other side of it.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Of course I brought the brownies. You spoke of nothing _but_ these brownies for three owls last week. If I’d shown up without them, you’d have murdered me!” She handed him the container of brownies and shrugged out of her coat, stepping into his flat, laughing when his eyes went wide and he grinned at the sight of his treats.

“Maybe not murdered.” He smirked, joking. “I might not have let you in though.” He smiled at her and closed the door behind her. “Thanks for this though, ‘Mione. Rough day so this kind of hits the spot right now.”

Her heart clenched when he said he had a rough day. She knew he’d been working on a particularly hard case for the Auror department lately but she thought things had gotten a little bit better. “I’m sorry to hear that, Ron. You and Harry are doing such important work in such a difficult job and doing so fabulously. There are going to be hard days but just know that you’re doing some good in the world!” She always tried to reassure him, make him feel better when she could and usually she knew just what to say to do so. This was no different.

She could see his face soften at her words. “Thanks, Hermione, means a lot.” He nodded and gestured to the living room. “Come in, make yourself comfortable. I got some of that new tea you like if you want a cuppa.”

He was always thinking of her. She smiled. “I’d love one. But I’ll make it… you go and sit. I brought my paperwork,” she patted her bag on her shoulder, “so I’ll make us both a cup to go with our work.” They’d literally just wanted to sit and be together while they were catching up on work. They did this often, made excuses to see each other and just spend time together, even if it meant catching up on work.

“Brill,” said Ron, retreating to the sitting room and stuffing a brownie in his mouth.

Hermione made them both tea and then proceeded into the sitting room, levitating both mugs and setting them on the table as she sat down next to Ron.

Ron sighed in relief. “Thanks, ‘Mione. What would I do without you?” The way he was looking at her made her heart skip a beat.

“Ron?” She asked softly, her voice small and shaky. She would tell him. Now.

“Yeah?” He looked up from the table with interested eyes. She looked at him for a moment and then lost her nerve.

“Nothing. Careful, the tea’s hot.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

She hated that she hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to tell him. She hated that here she was, miserable, because she hadn’t been able to tell him how she felt before any of this. And now, here she was, the night before his wedding and she was stuck.

Unless…

That’s it! She couldn’t take it anymore.

It definitely wasn’t her best idea in the world but she couldn’t let him go through with it, not without even telling him how she felt. She’d held it in for years and now it was her last chance. He was getting married tomorrow and if she didn’t do it now, she never could. It would be too late. That was why she was running in the pouring rain the short distance from her flat to his at 11 pm knowing he’d be home and knowing he’d be alone. She was soaked through and a nervous wreck but she had to. She had to. She took a breath as she reached up and knocked on his door, panting heavily.

He looked down at the bed, his tux still in the bag it came in thinking about what was going to happen the next day. Harry had wanted to take him out tonight, the night before his wedding, but he declined. He didn’t want to be smashed the day after, he said. And they believed him. Of course that wasn’t the real reason why he didn’t want to go out that night but he didn’t have to explain that.

He figured Harry really didn’t suspect a thing about his current state of mind, how could he, really, when he had never told him or anyone else that he wasn’t sure if he loved Lavender. He had never told them that he loved Hermione, hell he hadn’t even told Hermione that ever either. So maybe he lied about his reason for not wanting to go out. He needed time to think and he needed a lot of help. He needed someone to tell him it was okay to say no, to walk away and never turn back. The knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He headed toward the door and opened it. “Harry, I told you that I’d be fine-”

Her eyes snapped up as the door opened, her hair dripping on the floor and down her face. “It’s not Harry.” She said, still out of breath from the travel over. She didn’t know why she didn’t just apparate.

He opened the door wider and ran to grab the blanket off of his sofa, wrapping it around Hermione as he spoke, “Hermione, what are you doing here? You’re bloody soaked, what happened? Why didn’t you just apparate outside the door? Blimey! You’re going to catch cold or something.”

“I... I had to...” she trailed off as he ushered her inside and wrapped the blanket around her. He was always taking care of her. Always. It only strengthened her resolve. She had to do this. “It’s pouring out.” She said vaguely and then paused again, going silent. “Don’t marry her, Ron.” She said quietly.

Ron rubbed her shoulders as he tried to dry her off, not having his wand on him at the moment as he’d left it in the kitchen. Obviously it was pouring out. Now that he was out of his own little bubble he could hear the water pounding away at his windows though he’d been too caught up in thoughts to notice it before. But rain on your wedding day (it looked like it would continue raining through the next day) was supposed to signify luck, and he was sure that was the only reason he had yet to get an owl from a panicked Lavender. When she spoke again and broke him from his thoughts once more, Ron was sure he had just imagined it, because there was no way she said that.

He stopped rubbing her shoulders, “What -what did you say?”

She sucked in a breath, strengthening her resolve, her voice was no more than a whisper. “Don’t marry her. Marry me.” Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he’d hear it.

He stood there stunned. This was the absolute wrong time, or the perfect time, he wasn’t quite sure which. “’Mione, I - I’m getting married tomorrow.”

Suddenly, she felt the words burst out of her with an urgency she had felt her entire run over to his flat. “Don’t you think I know that? Why do you think I’m here? Tomorrow it would be too late!”

She could see the shock on his face… had he really not known how she felt all this time? Had she hid it that well? No one else seemed to think so and she thought back to the numerous teasing questions and comments over the years but had Ron really not known? Was he angry with her or just surprised? She couldn’t tell and usually she was pretty good at reading his expression. Not today.

“And you don’t think that maybe, I don’t know, any other time could have been more convenient?” He looked torn and his voice was shaking a little bit. Was this good or bad? Hermione didn’t know.

“Yeah, well, there wasn’t exactly a good time to bring something like this up, okay? I just knew I had to say something before you married her. I had to try. I’m sorry it took me until the night before your wedding to work up that courage.” She bit her lip and looked down, her wet curls falling around her face, leaving droplets of water on her cheeks which blended in with the tears that were falling a little bit from her eyes.

He turned away from her and looked out the window. “Hermione… if this is just, blimey, you can’t just say something like that without meaning it, I mean really meaning it, because if you decide tomorrow or next week or year that you didn’t... do you even know what that would do to me?”

“Do you think I would run here in the pouring rain the night before your wedding and possibly ruin that for you if I didn’t mean it? You know me better than that, Ron.” She looked down at her hands, also soaking wet from the rain.

“I don’t know! Bloody hell, Hermione, I don’t know what you were thinking when you ran over here.” He ran a hand through his hair, a habit of his when he was confused, nervous or thinking really hard about something. “I mean you just decided this today apparently,” he looked at her again, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to take it.”

She reacted immediately. “I didn’t decide it today!” She exclaimed, her hands going up in the air before falling again. “I decided it years ago but was too afraid to do anything about it, okay? I’ve been trying to figure this out for years, hiding it for years too! I knew this was my last chance so I went for it!” She paused, taking a breath, her face red from the heated discussion. “And for that matter I didn’t decide anything because you don’t decide who you fall in love with!”

“Fuck, I know that, Hermione, because if I could just decide to love someone, I would love Lavender!” He startled himself with his own exclamation and looked at his feet, not meeting her gaze. He had not meant for that to come out that way. He turned abruptly to the kitchen to their right and walked over to the sink where she could see him.

She froze, stunned at his words. He didn’t love her? “What do you mean decide to love her? If you don’t love her why are you marrying her?”

He grabbed two glasses and filled them with water, setting one on the counter for Hermione if she wanted it. He drank his quickly while looking at the sink. “Because she loves me and I... when two people have been dating as long as we have this is supposed to be the next step.”

“Not if you don’t love her, Ron.” It was as simple as that. She knew there were expectations in relationships and she knew that Lavender had pretty much proposed to Ron but she never thought he would say yes and marry her if he didn’t love her. He was doing it out of obligation.

“She means a lot to me, Hermione. What was I supposed to do?” He ran his hand through his hair again, making it stand on end in every which direction more so than usual. Hermione wanted to smile at the sight of it but there were more pressing matters at hand right then.

“Oh honestly! You’re supposed to not marry her, Ron! That’s a pretty big commitment to make to someone you don’t actually love!”

He turned around quickly, looking up at her. “You say that like it’s so easy.” Everything came easy to Hermione, he was a different story. Look how long it took him to break things off with Lavender back in school? And even then he hadn’t had the courage and she’d been the one to do it. Some Gryffindor he was. He was a coward, it seemed. A bloody coward.

She looked up at him. “It can be that easy.”

“I just walk away? And then what?”

“You walk towards me?” She knew it was cheesy and not usually her style to say something like that but it was what came out in that moment and she smiled a bit after, shrugging her shoulders.

He snorted at the corny nature of her statement, “And where do we go?”

She frowned when he snorted. This was not the response she hoped for. “I don’t know, Ron. You know, I did a huge thing here and I’m soaking wet and...” She bit her lip to stop from crying. “Can I just have a shirt to wear until my clothes dry? Please?”

He hadn’t meant to upset her and now he felt like a right git. He had been so shocked by her admission that he hadn’t thought how difficult it had been for her to come over and say it. He took her hand and nodded to her question as he led her toward his bedroom. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t say anything, just followed him down the familiar hallway. She could guess which shirt he’d give her too, the one she always borrowed when she stayed the night. The orange Chudley Cannons shirt, his favourite, which she had pretty much claimed as her own. And he’d let her. He wouldn’t have let her pretty much steal his favourite shirt if he didn’t feel _something_ for her, right?

This was not how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to cancel the wedding and take her in his arms and tell her he felt it too. He hadn’t turned her down, he hadn’t told her it was one sided. Maybe there was a glimmer of hope. A tiny ball of light kind of hope.

Ron led her over to the bed and grabbed the t-shirt he always gave her out of the top drawer. He stood in front of her, looking at the shirt and going over it with his hands. It was soft with age and probably never provided her with much warmth, but at least it was dry. He kneeled down in front of her and took off her shoes, gently, tenderly and with care. The way he was handling her made her feel a lot of things but the biggest one was confusion. He looked back up at her and put his hands on her waist, slowly bunching up the bottom of her shirt in his hands, his eyes silently asking for permission.

She watched him with wide eyes, nervous, sad, wondering all at once. When he reached for her shirt she sucked in as breath but nodded wordlessly. He’d seen her in much less than her clothes over the years in various predicaments. He’d taken care of her in more ways than she could count or remember. But this felt different.

His hands grazed her waist, ribs, and breasts as he lifted it up over her head. He took in deep breaths nervously as he set his warm hand on her back, then moving it lower to unhook her bra. He took it and put it in the pile he had started with her shirt. He tried not to look as he slipped the dry shirt over her head.

Ron had helped her out of clothes before... when she’d been sick, or wet, or hurt... but he’d never touched the bra. Never. It just wasn’t something he did. She didn’t want to say anything for fear of breaking the silence, for fear of embarrassment. Normally she didn’t have trouble speaking her mind but this wasn’t normal circumstances. She swallowed roughly and held her breath as he slipped the shirt over her. She didn’t know what to do.

He moved towards the waistband of her jeans, wanting to take those off for her as well since they were soaked but he looked at her, hands mid air, wondering if it was okay. If she’d stop him. She didn’t, only nodded and lifted her body off the bed a bit when the jeans came to her thighs to help him get them down her legs, his Cannons shirt falling over her body and acting like a dress that came to mid-thigh on her small form. He pulled them all the way off until finally all her wet clothes sat next to him. They could cast a drying charm on them later. Or maybe they’d just let them air dry which meant more time to figure things out. He did, however, gather the pile of clothes and put them on the chair by the door.

Almost Naked. She was almost naked under his shirt. His thin shirt. No, this had definitely never happened before. She stared at him silently, barely moving as he did and she was freaking out inside. What was going on here and what exactly did it mean?

He stood in the doorway of his room, looking at her wet clothes on his chair and then at her on his bed in just his Cannons t-shirt and not much else wondering what the heck had just happened. He undressed her and she didn’t say anything, he didn’t say anything. She didn’t curse him or hit him or yell at him. She let him undress her. Maybe she was serious about her feelings. He was always bad with words. He waited in the doorway as if by somehow keeping his distance now would erase any awkwardness he had just created.

“Did you want anything else? I could make you tea?” He found his voice to say that at least but it was a bit shaky nonetheless. He hoped she wouldn’t notice.

She didn’t even hear him until he spoke again. She’d been too busy reliving the past few moments and the way his fingers had softly moved along her skin as he was _undressing_ her. She was once again freaking out on the inside. Normally calm, good under pressure, cool and collected Hermione was having an inner freak out. She looked up, though, and shook her head.

“You should maybe head to bed soon,” she said softly, her voice cracking from the nerves, “I mean, you do have a wedding to be at in,” she looked at the clock, “8 hours.”

“I thought I’d just stay here with you instead.” He said simply, as if it were the simplest thing in the world but in reality, it was anything but simple.

She did a double take. _What did he just say?_ “Instead of... going to your wedding?”

He leaned against the doorframe, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his comfy trousers. “Yeah.”

“W-Why?” She was surprised the word was even audible at this point. She could barely keep herself together to get the word out. _What?!_

“Because, Hermione, I love you too. Bloody hell, of course I sodding love you too.”

“Y-You... I...What... Why didn’t you--when I said what I did before?!” For the first time in her life, she had no idea what to say. Her heard was slamming in her chest and her body was shaking from the rain before but mostly from what was happening now.

He looked down at his feet, “Because... because I wasn’t sure that you knew what you were saying.”

“I told you I knew what I was doing. You know me, Ron, you know I don’t do things without meaning them. When have I ever not thought every aspect of a decision through before making it? You’ve teased me enough times about it, you should know by now that it’s true.”

“Blimey, yeah, I know. I’ve just been waiting a really long time to hear that and it just- It didn’t seem real.” His face was pink at the cheeks and he was running his hand through his hair again like he always did when he was thinking really hard or was nervous.

“What do you mean waiting a really long time? How long?” She looked up at him. When he didn’t say anything, she bit her lip and took a deep breath and asked again. “How long, Ron?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to remember a time when I wasn’t anymore.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Reckon since we were like twelve or thirteen, I just didn’t know what it was at the time. You know me, I have the emotional range of a teaspoon, right?” He smiled just a bit remembering when she made that comment to him in school. “I think it hit me properly after the Yule Ball.”

She felt her heart pound again for the millionth time, it seemed and she tried to slow her breathing down so she would calm down. That was a lot of information to process in a few minutes. First, he wasn’t going to his wedding. Second, he said he was in love with her. Third, he said he’d been in love with her since they were twelve or thirteen. She looked at him, “You have a wedding to cancel.” She said softly, her eyes shining with the unshed happy tears that were pooling in her eyes.

Bloody hell, she was right, of course he did but he was terrified of calling it off, terrified of dealing with all the fallout. And terrified of Lavender’s reaction to it all. “Won’t they just figure it out when I don’t show up?”

She shook her head and gave him a look she knew he was used to receiving from her in one way or another “That’s not fair to her, Ronald, and you know it.” She spoke softly. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

He reluctantly made his way to the fireplace to use the floo network to contact someone, though he wasn’t sure who at this moment. The obvious answer was to speak to Lavender directly but he just couldn’t face her. Harry? No, he wouldn’t give that responsibility to his best friend. He decided his best bet was to speak to his Mum. She’d know what to do and she’d help him handle it. When he spoke to Molly, she seemed surprisingly relieved. Had everyone thought marrying Lavender had been a mistake and just not bothered to tell him? He would have thought about it more if he wasn’t concerned with Lavender rushing over to hex the bloody hell out of him. He ended the floo call with his Mum, knowing she had been holding back from telling her everything she’d been thinking. She’d take care of things for him and hopefully help him avoid the upcoming storm brewing. And he didn’t mean the weather. Maybe the rain would deter Lavender from coming over here and killing him. Maybe there’d be a monsoon. That would be nice.

She sat on his bed, chewing on her fingernails (something she rarely, if not ever, did) and she looked up at him nervously as he re-entered the bedroom, a look of confusion but also… relief? “So,” she said when he came in. “What happened?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” He realized she’d want a bit more information. “I floo’d Mum. She’ll take care of things.”

She looked at him with suddenly searching eyes, still filled with unshed tears and it dawned on her. “You just called off your wedding, Ron.” Her eyes widened in that sort of mystified way. “For... for me.”

He chuckled, “Well, I reckon it was a little bit for me too.”

She blushed. “Right, of course. Sorry.” She said sheepishly.

He smiled at her, unsure what he was supposed to do next. It was like he was frozen there in the doorway. The hard part was over right? They’d admitted their feelings, he wasn’t getting married anymore, so why did this feel even more terrifying?

She’d had a surge of courage before when she ran over here so why couldn’t she now? She took a deep breath in and then looked up at him shyly from under her lashes. “Well, why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Fucking hell, Hermione, I’m bloody scared here. What if it’s not as perfect as we imagined? What if I kiss you and there’s nothing?”

“That’s... not even possible.” She understood where he was coming from but there was no way it would be anything but good, great, fantastic, amazing, wonderful and so on.

“What makes you so sure? Other than the fact that you’re almost always right.” The side of his mouth tugged up in a half smirk, the kind she loved.

“Because, Ron, its like more than 10 years in the making.”

“You’re not even the least bit nervous?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Another habit of his.

“Of course I am... but its the good kind of nervous.” She smiled shyly. “Ron, come on, I’m nearly starkers under this shirt, _your shirt_ , and you’ve been standing in that doorway for like 20 minutes. Do you have incredible self control or something?” She smiled a bit to herself. They both knew that wasn’t true.

He scratched his arm. “I was afraid I might have pushed things too far with that. You know, the taking your clothes off thing?”

She shook her head. “I would have said something.” She let out a breath. “I trust you implicitly, Ron. You’d never take advantage.” She paused a moment and then huffed a little in frustration. “Are you seriously still standing there?”

He flushed and gave her that half-smirk of his. He made his way over to the bed, he pushed the tux off the bed and onto the floor and sat down next to her.

She gasped in mock surprise. “He moves!”

“Oh, look who’s funny all of a sudden,” he smiled at her as he leaned into her, putting his hand softly on her cheek.

Suddenly she wasn’t feeling so funny anymore. She closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. It was a familiar one, one that she’d felt many times before but it held such a different meaning now. Her eyes fluttered open again and she looked at him. This was it, wasn’t it? The moment when it all changed.

He leaned in closer, pressing his forehead against hers. He could feel her soft breath on his face, her wet curls touching his fingertips, the cool touch of her cheeks from the rain but the warmth of the rest of her. After a moment, he moved forward unable to wait any longer and softly pressed his lips to hers, testing the waters.

As many times as she’d read it, she’d never experienced what it was like to actually melt into a kiss. She knew it would be him to show her. There had been other kisses, she wasn’t a complete shut in, but none of them had every felt like this. Her entire body felt like it was on fire. She felt fireworks, sparks, magic flowing through her and between the two of them.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer to him as he deepened the kiss. She was right, she was always right, the minute his lips touched hers he felt a fire in his heart, a need like nothing he had ever felt before. She was soft and she smelled amazing and he wanted to give her everything in the world. With Lavender he had always felt like there was this invisible barrier that kept him from getting too close, but with Hermione it was different, there was nothing there, no barrier, no wall. This was where he was meant to be. He’d been a ruddy idiot, a git in everyway possible. Now that he knew what kissing Hermione felt like, what kissing someone he’d been in love with for most of his life was like, he knew he hadn’t felt anything close to any of that with Lavender. He felt so stupid. Why had he agreed to marry her?

She knew it. She knew there was no way in hell this could be anything but incredible. For all the times she’d thought about it, pictured it, dreamed of it, it was _so_ much better. She wrapped her arms around his neck, sunk her fingers in his soft hair that she’d so innocently ran her fingers through in the past and threw herself into it like she did everything else.

Without her knowing it a loud moan escaped his lips. The way she lightly scratched his scalp only soothed him more. Helped him forget about Lavender and the wedding, made him want to touch her more. It made him hyper aware of how Hermione’s breasts were covered by a flimsy shirt and pressed hard against him.

She might not have heard the moan, it being muffled by their actions, but she felt it against her lips, the vibrations of it. It gave her goosebumps all over. All over. She pressed herself into him, wanting more, wanting him.

He fought against himself as he put one hand on her shoulder and pushed himself away. His breath was heavy, but he ignored it. “Clothes, you need to put on some more clothes or this needs to stop because...”

She sucked in a breath trying to catch hers in the moment they were separated and once she had, she didn’t want to be separated anymore. “No more clothes.” She said simply, shaking her head.

He looked at her with slight confusion, he hadn’t expected her to say that, but he didn’t want to question it either so he quickly leaned back in and kissed her again. His hand slipped off her shoulder and cupped her breast through the fabric. He felt her already hard nipple as he ran the pad of his thumb over it, he wasn’t sure if it was because she was still cold, aroused, or both. “Should we… lay down or something?”

She made a soft sound when his warm hand connected with that particular part of her, one that was pretty damn sensitive in that moment. “As long as we don’t stop doing this,” she said kind of breathlessly in response to his question.

He would have laughed or even smiled if he wasn’t feeling the urgency himself. He got off the bed momentarily and pulled off his shirt and pajama pants before climbing back in next to her.

She scrambled fully onto the bed herself, even before he moved and then from her spot watched as he took off his pajamas. She’d seen him like this before, he often slept without pajamas just in his boxers, even when she stayed over, but this was different. She took a moment to look at him. Auror training had been good to him over the years. He was well fit and she definitely noticed on more than one occasion and she’d been the subject of many a heated fantasy or dream.

He scooted closer to her until their bodies were touching. He looked into her eyes and took a deep breath as he put his hand on her thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

Her breath caught in her throat as she sort of peered up at him from her spot on the pillow. “Are you sure about this, Ron? Regardless of the reasons, you still just called off your wedding.” The last thing she wanted was to force him into something he didn’t want or wasn’t in any state of mind to do. What she meant to say was ‘are you sure about me?’ but she couldn’t bring herself to word it that way in case he wasn’t and couldn’t tell her.

One corner of his mouth turned up as he smiled. She was adorable and ridiculous all at the same time. He had imagined this happening far too many times to pull away now, not when he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. “I’m sure, are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” She responded with conviction. He’d been sure of her feelings since second year at Hogwarts. Maybe he’d felt it too then but it took him longer to figure it out in his mind. She had no doubts about him or about them.

He kissed her hard, leaving them both breathless. He wouldn’t never get enough of this, of kissing her, touching her, holding her. “And afterward you’ll stay? Tell me you won’t leave. Promise me.”

“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere and I meant it.” She was still out of breath from that kiss. “I belong here.”

He nodded and kissed her again as his hand made its way further and further up until it reached the smooth curve of her arse. He’d always loved her legs and her arse. He’d tried on many occasions to not get caught while staring at her bottom half in school. And her top half. And well, the rest of her too.

This was surreal. After years of want, years of pining, years of keeping this secret it was finally becoming real and it was kind of unbelievable. Hermione thought it might be odd, feel odd, to be kissing or touching Ron after years and years of friendship. But it wasn’t. Not at all. In fact, it felt more natural than anything else she’d done. They fit together, her body against his, his hands on her skin. She felt a fire ignite within her at every touch, every caress, at the feel of his hands on her.

Soon it became clear that they were both wearing far too much clothing. Well, Hermione was still only in her knickers and his thin Cannons t-shirt, but Ron had his pajamas on. She never broke the kiss for a moment, but her hands went to the bottom of his shirt and start pulling it upwards. Their lips broke apart momentarily, just long enough for him to help her tug the shirt over his head and toss it aside, before he was kissing her again. And doing it oh so well, she might add. Yes, he was _very_ good at this.

Ron got goosebumps the moment Hermione’s hands touched the bare skin of his chest, now exposed after removing his shirt. He shivered at the feel of it. She’d seen him shirtless many a time over the years but the context was oh so different now. His eyes fluttered open when he felt her part their lips for a moment and take in a breath and he looked at her from under half-lidded eyes.

“What?” He asked softly, the word coming out almost as if he was just breathing out a sigh.

“Hmm, nothing…” She replied absent-mindedly, her eyes focussed on his form.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked with a bit of a smirk. His smirk turned into a full-fledged shit-eating grin when he saw her blush brightly in response.

“Oh, hush.” She said softly, slightly embarrassed she’d been caught so openly staring.

Her response just made Ron grin more. He looked down at her body all curled up under him and his hands went to the bottom of her shirt, okay, his shirt, which was more like a dress on her. He looked up and searched her eyes, asking silently for permission. When she nodded slowly, he started lifting the shirt over her head, tossing it onto the floor and let his eyes settle on her this time.

She went a bit pink. She may have seen Ron shirtless over the years, but he’d definitely never seen her shirtless. Not without a bathing suit or even a bra at the very least. She could feel his eyes on her and the flush stayed on her cheeks.

“You’re perfect, Hermione.” He said simply, the honesty in his voice evident. She didn’t agree but the way he said it made her believe him.

“I love you.” She responded simply, softly.

“I love you more.” He answered before kissing her again, his lips urgent against her, wanting, passionate. Then he was kissing down her neck and continuing to her chest and suddenly his mouth was on her breast, his hand paying close attention to the other breast while he nipped and licked at the skin. She let out a soft noise, a cross between a moan and a sigh, and her hands went to his hair.

Ron made sure that it was clear just how much he worshipped her. He kissed, licked, nipped, caressed his way down her chest, down her stomach until he reached the waistband of her knickers. He looked up at her briefly, hooking his fingers in the waistband before tugging them down her legs. He trailed kisses up her legs, to her thighs and then paused, a wicked grin on his face.

Hermione’s eyes opened when he paused and then closed again quickly and she made a sound of surprise when suddenly his mouth was on her. “Oh! Oh Merlin!” She moaned softly, her hand gripping his hair and her other hand clutching the sheets under her.

Her reaction set a fire off in him and he felt his arousal building even more as he went to work, trying different pressures and techniques to see what she liked, finding out exactly that from her responses and the noises she made. He relished in the fact that she seemed to be enjoying herself quite a bit and watched her as he worked his mouth over her.

“Ron!” She moaned, “Close!”

Hearing this, he set to work and picked up the pace of his tongue, using his fingers to push in and out of her and his thumb to rub over her sensitive spot. Her hips arched off the bed and into his touch, into his mouth and it was only a moment later when she was moaning his name again loudly, a sound he was sure he was addicted to hearing already, and he felt her walls clench around his fingers as she rode out her high.

She pulled him back up to her hungrily, kissing him fiercely and tasting herself on his tongue. She could feel his arousal against her leg and she reached down and took him in her hand under his pajama bottoms, shoving them down in the process, moving her hand up and down, wanting to give him a semblance of the pleasure he’d just given her.

He groaned when he felt her hand on him but he reached down and grasped her wrist, stopping her movements.

She looked up at him in question. “Something wrong?”

He shook his head, “No, ‘Mione, of course not. But I’d rather be inside you right now… I can’t wait any longer.”

Her heart raced at his words and she nodded. She let her legs fall open as he slid in between them.

“Do we need to do the spell?” He asked softly.

She shook her head. “No need. I’m on a potion.”

“Thank bloody fuck for that.” He said, not wasting another moment, pushing himself into her in one swift motion. “Fucking hell!” He groaned, his head dropped against her shoulder, the feel of her surrounding him with her warmth overwhelming. She was so tight. She must not have been with anyone recently.

She moaned, her hands gripped at Ron’s back as he pushed into her. The feel of him stretching her was intense but it felt right and like he fit. It took her a moment to adjust as she hadn’t been with anyone in a while but it wasn’t long before she was hooking her legs around his waist in a silent plea for him to move.

He moved in and out of her at a rhythmic pace, his hips moved fluidly, his hands holding himself up on the bed. He felt her hook her legs around him and he let out a low guttural sound from his throat, picking up the pace and moving in and out of her even faster.

“More, Ron!” She moaned, her nails digging into his skin. “Yes!”

He lifted his head and kissed her, trying to keep himself focussed. He would not let their first time together be over in a matter of minutes. Not if he could help it. He took one of her legs from around him and instead hitched it up over his shoulder, gripping it with one hand as the other hand held himself balanced above her.

“Oh, Merlin, yes!” She moaned, feeling him hit a new spot in her with this new position.

“Fucking hell, Hermione, you feel amazing.” He groaned out, wondering if this intense feeling would always be there between them. He didn’t see it ever going away.

She moaned in response, moving her hips up off the bed to meet his thrusts into her, wanting the friction, clinging to him desperately. She always had a feeling he was good at this and boy was she right.

“Nnngh…” He moaned, “’Mione, I’m close.” He could feel that familiar pressure building in his abdomen and although he didn’t want this to be over anytime soon, he wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer.

She reached up and kissed him, “Let go, Ron.” She said against his mouth, her breathing fast and ragged as their bodies moved together and the bed under them moved with them.

That did it. It was only another moment before he felt his orgasm building and he wanted her to get there with him, so his free hand went down and started to rub her clit vigorously, hoping to get her to her peak again with him.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, clutching at him. “Yes!”

“Come for me, love.” He murmured against her mouth, kissing her roughly as he reached his climax and spilled into her. She followed mere seconds later, her walls clenching around him.

“Well, then.” He said as he let himself fall onto the bed, his chin on her shoulder, breathing heavily as they both came down from their high. “You were right again, yeah?”

She turned her head and looked at him. “About what?” She asked in a breathless voice.

“Definitely nothing to worry about there.” He grinned and she met his smile with one of her own. “Fucking brilliant, that was.”

She laughed a little, turning on her side to face him in the bed. “Language aside, I have to agree.” She commented, reaching up and pushing some of his sweaty hair off his forehead.

“I bloody love you, you know. You’re a hell of a lot braver than I am, coming here like you did.”

She shrugged and placed a kiss on his cheek and the corner of his mouth. “I love you too. Guess it’s good I’m a Gryffindor, isn’t it?”

He grinned, “Too right it is.” A yawn erupted from his mouth a moment later and he glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “You’ve worn me out, you know. And it’s like 2 am. Can we sleep now?”

She laughed. “Yes, Ron, we can sleep.”

“You’ll be here in the morning?” He asked, snuggling into her shoulder, his eyes already closed.

“I’ll be here in the morning.” She responded.

“Brill. ‘Night, ‘Mione, love you.”

“Love you too.” But he didn’t hear here for he was already out cold.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Hermione had never slept so soundly in her life and she knew why and that reason was why she’d slept with a smile on her face like a goofy schoolgirl. Ron loved her. He loved her and cancelled his wedding. It was surreal. Years of being in love with him and finally this happens? They hadn’t really left the bedroom at all after he had floo’d his Mum to cancel everything. She had never felt so tired in her life! But it was the good kind of tired. The kind of tired she hoped she’d be feeling over and over again in the near future. So when she squirmed and opened her eyes and saw the clock read 11am the next morning, she wasn’t surprised.

Ron willed himself to go back to sleep when he felt Hermione stir in the bed next to him. He was glad she was there with him, but he was afraid of what the rest of the day held. Owls and floo calls were bound to come through or unwanted visitors were sure to happen now that everyone had time to digest the news. And what about Lavender? He was supposed to have started packing for his move to her flat that she insisted was better than his. He hoped she didn’t show up herself today and walk in on him and Hermione. She’d always said that she was surprised Hermione hadn’t stolen him away from her. Maybe he should put up some protective charms up around his flat, well some extra special ones to keep certain people out.

“Good morning.” He said, his voice rough from sleep and tired from the previous night’s activities. He wouldn’t even open his eyes.

She rolled over to face him, her back had been pressed against his chest and smiled sleepily, yawning and stretching a bit. “Morning. What are you thinking about? I can hear it in your voice.”

He sighed, “Just thinking about all the things I gotta do. Would it be weird if I put up some protective enchantments on the flat?”

She was confused for a second. “Enchantments? Why would you need... OH. Right. That actually might be a good idea.” She sighed and reached up, running her fingers through the hair above his forehead. “You don’t regret it all, do you?”

He took a deep breath and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to him, feeling the warmth of her bare skin against his. “Of course not, I just wish everything else would sodding disappear. I don’t want to deal with all the aftermath, you know? I reckon it’s my own fault though. For letting it get so far.”

She moved closer and buried her face in his neck for a minute. “I’m sorry. Even though I’m so entirely happy, a lot of things are going to happen in the next while. To both of us.”

He rubbed her arm lightly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about what this was doing to you. If you want... I won’ tell anyone, not until things cool down.”

She shook her head and pulled back a bit to look up at him. “No, no I want to do this together. It’s worth it, Ron.”

“I just, I don’t want anyone putting all the blame on you. You didn’t cause this. Well, okay, guess you sort of did, but you did the right thing, the brave thing. I didn’t. Lavender’s going to bloody hate me.”

“I can handle it if they do blame me. You’ve seen me in these kind of situations, I can take care of myself. Plus, I’m pretty sure a lot of people already knew this would happen sometime... they probably expected it earlier actually. Well, I know at least Harry did. And maybe Ginny too.” She bit her lip sheepishly.

He blushed, “What do you mean? How could they know when you didn’t even know.”

“No I... meant on my end. Harry definitely knew and Ginny make all kinds of suggestive comments. She’s known for a while.”

Ron groaned. Everyone bloody knew but him. He was kind of oblivious sometimes. “They are way too good at keeping secrets then. Remind me to hex them later, yeah? Though maybe dealing with Lavender yesterday was revenge enough.”

“Can we just stay here in bed all day?” She buried her face in his neck. She didn’t want to deal with anything else today. She just wanted to be with him and relish in the fact that they were finally together.

“How about we just put some clothes on for a whole five minutes and grab some food in the kitchen. That okay with you?”

She made a hmphing sound as if she were disappointed. “Oh fine, if we must. Surprise you don’t want to just do that starkers.” She raised her eyebrows and sat up, the sheet falling.

His eyes went right to her chest as the sheet fell off her, pooling at her hips. He did not even try and stop himself from staring.

“Ronald!” She chastised, lifting a hand to cover herself. He pouted.

She smiled and padded over to the mirror to take in her appearance. She looked dishevelled and thoroughly shagged. She fixed her hair a bit. “I’ll go to the kitchen and get some of those brownies I hid in your fridge a few days ago and some tea and be right back.” She moved over to him and leaned down for a kiss.

He stretched a bit to meet her lips and grinned against them. They were already comfortable, familiar enough with each other that this was in no way shape or form weird.

She grinned and winked and padded barefoot to the kitchen, flicking the kettle on for some tea and fishing for the brownies in the fridge.

Ron slipped on his pajama pants and made his way to the bathroom where he relieved himself and washed his face. He was still tired from the day (and night) before, but he hoped the tea would help give him energy to keep up with Hermione. She always did have more energy than him and it seemed that didn’t change when it came to the bedroom either. He made his way out the kitchen and snuck up behind Hermione wrapping his arms around her middle. “Hey.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin but then two second later melted back into him, closing her eyes and resting her hands on his. “Hi.”

“My very own live in Hermione. Be careful, I could get used to that.”

“You’re going to have to.” She said with a smile, turning around in his arms and resting hers around his neck.

He cocked an eyebrow, “Oh? I don’t remember seeing your name on my mailbox, when did you move in?”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, obviously I didn’t mean that. I wouldn’t just invite myself to live here! I just meant in general, get used to having me around.”

He rested his chin on the top of her head, “So you’re thinking about going home soon then?” His arms encircled her entirely as she was so petite. He held her close and realized how easy it was. No awkwardness, no weirdness. They should have been doing this all along.

“Mmm, no, not if you don’t want me to.” She snuggled into her favourite spot under his chin where she just kind of fit.

“Then we should definitely hide in the bedroom when the tea is done.” He glanced toward the door half expecting Lavender to come charging in at any moment.

Just in that moment the kettle whistled and she grinned. “It’s done.” She tugged him over where she’d put two mugs on the counter and poured them, handing him one and taking the plate of brownies, scurrying towards his room. “Are you coming?” She called over her shoulder teasingly, wiggling her hips a little extra as she walked and tried not to spill the hot tea.

He took one last look at the door before running after her spilling some tea on the floor, luckily not on his bare feet because that would hurt. “We might need to change these and take a shower if we plan on living in here.” He said, gesturing his chin to the sheets on the bed as he entered the room and set the tea down on his night table.

“Hmm,” she said, biting her lip and setting down the coffee as she crawled back into the bed. The big comfy one she convinced him to get. “Maybe later.”

He took a brownie from her and took a large bite washing it down with his tea. “So... are you going to tell me why you hid food in my flat?”

“Because you’re always asking me for those brownies and I figured when you found them, you’d smile and think of me.” She shrugged. “I like taking care of you.”

“You know it would have totally killed me if I had found these after I gotten married.”

She looked over at him, munching on her own brownie, “What do you mean?”

“Because I would have seen these and loved you more, and because I didn’t know how you felt. It’d feel awful that you made me love you more without even trying.”

Her eyes softened and she set her tea down again to lean over and give him a chocolately kiss. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too,” he said kissing her back. He watched her eat and smiled at her as he ate his brownie. “About yesterday... I’m sorry for what I said, for my reaction. It took a lot of courage for you to tell me. Courage I never had. Some Gryffindor I am, eh?” He shook his head.

“You don’t have to apologize, Ron. I understand your reaction.” She finished her brownie and curled up against his side. “We got here, didn’t we? It doesn’t matter how.”

“I just hate that we didn’t get here sooner. What wasted time. Could have been shagging this entire time!” He grinned and chuckled a bit when she smacked his shoulder with her free hand and put his arm around her, kissing her temple. “Maybe you should stay here so we can make up time.”

She looked up at him. “Stay here how? Like right here in bed?” She grinned.

“I kind of meant longer...” He rubbed the back of his neck.

That stopped her in her tracks. She looked at him. “Are you asking me to stay permanently?”

“If I were would you say yes?”

She bit her lip to stop from happy crying. “Why don’t you ask officially and see?” She said through her smiles.

He knew it was stupid to ask, he hadn’t even moved in with Lavender before they were supposed to get married. She could say no, she should say no. Maybe she would think it was all too fast. Maybe it was too improper for her. He just didn’t want to be apart from her now that they were finally together “If you wanted, I’d like it if maybe you could move in. Will you move in with me?”

She grinned and took his face in her hands, kissing him hard. “I would love to, Ron.” She smiled again.

“Really, you don’t reckon we’re being barmy? Or too impulsive with all of this?”

“It’s not like we just met, Ron. I’ve known you since I was twelve. We’ve been best friends for years.” She knew it wasn’t conventional but they weren’t conventional in a lot of ways so who said they had to start being that way now?

“But we’ve only been dating a day, or seeing each other or whatever we are. What are we?” She was surprised he was the one asking this question. Usually it was the woman who asked. Again: not conventional.

“Ron, you’ve been my best friend for most of my life, I know you better than you know yourself, and vice versa. We practically live together anyways, you know. We’re always at each other’s flats. It works for us.” She shrugged. “We’re together... aren’t we?”

“I hope so, I mean, I’m not asking you to be my flatmate here. I don’t have a second bedroom,“ he joked.

She laughed. “Well, I hope not! No, I definitely fit better in this bed with you.” She leaned up for another kiss, this time holding onto it. “You’re... it for me, Ron. I knew it when I was twelve.”

“Did you mean what you said yesterday? About wanting me to marry you?” The question came spilling out of him.

She flushed, pink rising to her cheeks. “I still can’t believe I just blurted that out. But yes, I meant it.”

“Okay.” He said simply with a nod. He’d given Lavender a ring she’d picked out for herself but he had his mother’s family ring that he could give Hermione. He would never have given that to anyone else.

“Okay what?” She asked curiously, nibbling on her brownie.

“Okay, I accept your proposal.”

“My... my what?” She sat up and faced him. “Are you... are you saying you want to get married? Like now?”

“You’re my best friend, Hermione. I love you. I don’t see that ever changing. Does it matter if we decide to do it now or five years from now?” He had known from the moment he realized he was in love with her that if they got together they’d stay together. There was no breaking up for them. Unfortunately, he’d always thought she didn’t feel the same as he did before she’d shown up on the eve of his wedding soaking wet at his door. Now that he knew she returned the feelings, he knew they were forever.

Her mouth dropped. “I... no, I guess not.”

“Unless you want to take it back.” He was giving her an out. Maybe this was all too fast for her. Just because he felt like he was ready to marry her then and there, didn’t mean she felt it too.

She shook her head vigorously. “No! No. I want to marry you. Of course I want to marry you.”

He put his tea down on the nightstand and kissed her softly. “I reckon I should do this properly, yeah?” He stood, taking her hand and pulling her up off the bed for a minute. He went over to the top drawer of his dresser and dug around for the box he needed and smiled when he found it tucked away in the back. “Right, so bear with me, I didn’t really plan this.” He walked over to her so he was standing in front of her and kneeled down on one knee. He saw her eyes watering and she was biting her lip.

“Hermione Granger, my best friend and the love of my entire life… will you marry me?” He held the ring up in front of her.

She burst into a smile and let the happy tears fall down her cheeks. “Yes!” She exclaimed, putting her hand out in front of her as he slipped the ring on her finger. A perfect fit. “It’s beautiful. How do you have this? It isn’t… it isn’t hers right?”

“No!” Ron said immediately. “No, ‘course it’s not bloody hers. I wouldn’t do that, Hermione! It’s the Weasley family ring. I never wanted to give it to her. She picked out her own ring anyways.” He shrugged, “This ring,” he said, taking her hand in his and touching the ring on her finger, smiling at how perfect it looked there, “this ring was always meant for you.”

Her heart skipped a couple beats and she threw her arms around his neck now that he was standing upright again, hugging him tightly. “I love you. I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Good, because I don’t ever want to be without you.” He responded, his face buried in her mess of curls.

She pulled back and looked at him. “That’s never going to happen.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, “It almost did.”

“No, it didn’t. I would have still been around as your best friend.” She would never allow herself to lose him completely.

“Even if I had married Lavender?” He asked softly. He thought back to sixth year at school and how she wouldn’t even speak to him or be his friend when he was dating her. He knew it was his own fault but why was that different from now?

She nodded. “ Even then, Ron. I would have never let anything ruin our friendship. I would have dealt with it. I wasn’t going to lose you all together.” She went quiet for a moment, looking at her left ring finger. “Are we really engaged?” She asked between kisses.

“Mmhmm,” he replied as he reached down to take her shirt off again, “And now we need to celebrate.”

She automatically lifted her arms. “Oh, we do, do we? Good thing I have no objections to that idea.”

“I didn’t think you would.” He commented cheekily a she kissed along her neck, now that things had calmed down from yesterday everything felt less rushed, he wanted to actually make love to her slowly, lovingly, passionately.

“Watch it mister!” She said, her eyes closed as his lips moved across her skin. “Don’t make me hex you.”

“You wouldn’t dare. Not when a repeat of last night is on the horizon. Whose name would you yell out then?” He smirked against her skin, loving that he could still tease her like he always had. “Nope, you’re addicted to me, admit it, ‘Mione. I doubt you’d resist me now, am I right? There isn’t any doubt!”

Her eyes immediately closed and she let out a sigh of happiness as the goosebumps formed on her skin. “Well, if there was, you’re doing a good job of convincing me otherwise.”

“Good, because I really want to show my fiancée how much I love her.”

Just the sound of that word in reference to her sent her into a frenzy. “So good with the words.” She let out in a breathy sort of sigh/moan.

He lightly pushed her down onto the bed and rolled on top of her supporting himself with his arms. “I love you.”

She settled into the pillows below her and looked up at him, her eyes shining and a smile on her lips. “I love you, too.” She responded, looking up at him with pure love in her eyes. “Forever.”

“Forever.” He echoed, bringing her left hand up, joining it with his right and moving it above her head as he leaned down to kiss her.

Forever was pretty damn accurate.


End file.
